I can’t do a cartwheel. I never learned how. It never bothered me. That’s not true. Maybe there was one day in in my playground career that I wished I could do a cartwheel. Actually, I know I wished I could cartwheel down the sand dunes on Long Beach. One of my high school friends did that. Pretty sure he messed up his ACL while he did it so maybe I’m glad that I didn’t accompany him. (In my mind I had taken great pictures of my friend doing cartwheels on the beach but when I went to look through the album I found that I do have pictures but they are not good!) Perhaps I should add cartwheeling to my list of things to do before I turn 40. Those that know me well are probably shaking in their boots at the thought. My mom might suddenly convince me to get a tattoo instead knowing the casualties will be far less in the tattoo parlor.
Why am I even thinking about cartwheels you ask? I have a seven year old who is dying to learn how to do one. And I can’t teach her. She sobbed for awhile last night before bed because some of the girls on the playground were saying she was weird because she couldn’t do a cartwheel. So this morning I enlisted Lisa. She can do a cartwheel. Lisa can teach Eva how to do a cartwheel and the girls won’t be able to say she is weird because she can’t do it. I won’t be able to find an easy solution for all of the playground drama though. I have to teach her that what other people say doesn’t matter. Today it will be cartwheels tomorrow she may be ‘weird’ because she has the wrong shoes on. Perhaps I should add not caring about what people say to my list of things to learn before I turn 40 as well.
I’m not sure which would be more difficult for me – cartwheels or ignoring mean spirited comments. The thought of throwing myself at the ground and forcing my legs over my head makes me uneasy. I’m not the most coordinated person in the world or even in my cul de sac. Maybe I should do a water cartwheel first (is there such a thing?). But just as difficult for me is turning a deaf ear to mean spirited comments. Sometimes my peers act like they are still out on the playground or in high school. Motherhood can be just as cliqu-ish as the worst days of middle school. And then throw in the fact that someone may say something mean about your child!?!? No way I can turn a deaf ear to that! But I don’t want to care about what people think or say anymore. So maybe I will cartwheel through my day so I don’t have to listen to any rude comments.